


Outrunning Karma

by Faustess



Series: Always in My Headspace [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Falling In Love, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hydra (Marvel), Jack Rollins Is Not a Douche, M/M, Memory Loss, No Sex, No Smut, Not a Trash Party, POV Bucky Barnes, Pining, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Walk Into A Bar, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustess/pseuds/Faustess
Summary: One of the STRIKE team members is in a band.  He has a gig that night in a tiny dive bar.  The team is running late, so they bring the Winter Soldier along.Bucky Barnes Bingo fill:  C1: Winter.





	Outrunning Karma

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is _not_ the typical Hydra Trash Party stuff. I know this. That's why I'm putting this note at the beginning. 
> 
> This particular iteration of Rollins is lonely, but wouldn't ask the Soldier to do anything beyond their strict mission parameters that he couldn't consent to. (Since the Soldier's basically walking non-con and Hydra's missions are... well Hydra missions..) ;D Hopefully y'all will like it anyway and hopefully I've tagged it enough! (If I've missed something, let me know!)
> 
> ALSO - the biggest shout out to my friend Nava who supplied all of Jack's dialogue and the idea to begin with. :D THANK YOU!!! <3 <3 They also introduced me to the song that this fic is named after "Outrunning Karma" by Alec Benjamin... it's so WS it hurts! (another big thank you bc the song is fantastic!)
> 
> Let me know what you think!! Looking forward to hearing your comments!

“Close your eyes, Winter – got a surprise for you,” said Jack Rollins, the leader of this particular STRIKE team.

Winter complied because it was expected, part of the rules while being out of cryo and even with all he forgot between missions, he remembered that he did _not_ care for the punishments that followed rule-breaking. Unlike with other handlers, though, the request didn’t inspire a wave of revulsion or apprehension. Also, with closed eyes, he couldn’t report on exactly what he’d seen during mission report.

“You sure we don’t have time to take him back before the show? He’s gonna creep people out,” the newest and youngest member of Rollins’s team complained.

“He’ll be fine – always is,” Rollins replied. “Anyway, you’ll be late for your first show if we don’t bring him along.”

The Soldier basked in the indirect praise, but took care to keep his expression neutral. If he acted too far from what they expected, there might not be more off-mission trips in the future.

The STRIKE team drove awhile longer before crossing the border. Winter could hear the driver talking to the border security agents and a dog barking in the distance (not at them – threat of discovery minimal).

As the vehicle rolled along, Winter let his thoughts slide away, just listening to Barrett – the one with the show – mumbling to himself and the hum of occasional conversation around him. Less than an hour later, their SUV stopped at a truck stop so the team could clean up a bit before reaching their final destination.

“C’mon Winter, you too. You go first. Here’s a comb,” Rollins said, steering him toward the bathroom.

 _No windows. Ventilation opening too small for adult access. Possibility of poison attacks, though extremely unlikely._ Winter tried to shake off the odd, but not unpleasant, circumstances and splashed water on his face and back of his neck, then dried them off meticulously, and combed his hair.

Looking at his reflection, he decided he looked more like the other members of the STRIKE team now. Winter wasn’t sure how to feel about that observation and pushed the thought away. Flecks of blood peppered his ‘jacket’ and the smell of spent gunpowder clung to it. He unbuckled it and flung the jacket over his shoulder – a calculated risk since he hadn’t been specifically instructed to do so. The sulfur from the gunpowder still lingered in his hair, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

Studying his face and clothes in detail, he nodded to himself, satisfied with the results of his work. No way the Soldier would be able to pass as a civilian, but former military? Definitely.

A knock on the door accompanied by, “Hey, hurry up in there, Princess – the rest of us gotta get in there too,” a sneer audible in the speaker’s voice, roused the Soldier from his thoughts.

Winter opened the door and glared into the face of the impatient grunt on the other side. He said, “Move.”

The other man hopped out of the way like a startled rabbit, staring – so much so that the closing bathroom door nearly hit him in the face. Another man from the team murmured, “You weren’t kidding, Rollins. Soldat cleans up pretty good.”

Back in the vehicle after everyone cleaned up as best they could, the Soldier closed his eyes again and felt sure most of the STRIKE team was stealing little glances at him during the remainder of their drive, though maybe that was just his paranoia. Either way, he did his best to ignore that uncomfortable feeling.

About fifteen minutes later, the SUV parked and the team piled out again.

“Out. Leave the coat here,” Rollins said. He sounded like he was in a good mood, though the words were terse.

Inside, the building, Rollins said, “Okay, open ‘em.”

Opening his eyes, the Soldier glanced around. A bar. Not much to see. A couple of pool tables, some tables shoved aside to make room for a drum kit and some amplifiers, as well as a small space for people to dance. A good turnout for whatever night of the week it was – probably not a prime Friday or Saturday night, though. No one stood out as a particular threat, though, so the Soldier stood at the bar where the other STRIKE team members were ordering beers and loosening up from a mission that had taken them too long to accomplish.

“Anything for you, hun?” the mid-forties woman tending bar asked him.

Winter looked in the mirror behind the bar. Rollins was talking to Barrett, sending him to an employees only area next to the stage area. The Soldier replied, “Water.” Then, thinking better of it, added, “Please.”

“You the designated driver for these rowdies?” the bartender asked, smiling. She winked at him, “Soda’s free for D.D.’s – just so you know.”

He nodded, acknowledging, “Thanks.” Then he waited for one of his team members to retrieve him. Rollins allowed him much more flexibility than most handlers did, but Winter wasn’t sure how much conversation was allowed.

“You in the service?” the woman behind the bar persisted in making conversation.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Long time ago.” Winter sipped his water, hoping she’d leave him alone now, but the other customers had moved to stake out tables or good vantage points to watch the band. He was the only one at the bar right now.

“Must feel like it, huh, sugar,” the bartender said sympathetically. “Well, anything I can do for you, you just let me know, all right sweetheart?”

“Okay.” The Soldier sipped his water and leaned on the bar with one elbow, facing the stage. The music started and in spite of the people, he was enjoying himself.

After the first couple of songs, Rollins sauntered over. “Hey, Winter, you see that pretty blonde girl over there? Why don’t you ask her to dance?”

He liked having a name and didn’t mind the way Rollins said ‘Winter.’ When Jack said it, it sounded a little bit like ice skating with red wool mittens – something special – not like a slur the way other handlers said it, if they called him anything at all. Clearly, he’d been out of cryo too long, getting all philosophical like this...

Winter looked between Rollins and the woman he was talking about, “Why?”

Rollins shrugged, “It’d be fun. Unless you want to dance with me or someone else from the team instead.”

Winter turned the idea over in his mind, trying to figure out the right answer, though he was fairly sure Rollins wasn’t trying to trick him. “I don’t want someone I don’t know touching me.”

“Do you want to dance?” Jack offered.

Standing stock-still, Winter nodded once stiffly.

Jack offered him his hand, “Wanna dance with me?”

The team was technically still on their mission since they hadn’t given their mission report and debriefed yet. Winter considered. Bars and dancing were definitely breaking the rules, but the other STRIKE team members weren’t supposed to be here right now either – and they had beers. He took Jack’s hand, “Okay.”

Jack pulled him to a quieter corner without so many people, also undoubtedly, so Winter would have a corner to his back and not need to keep looking over his shoulder.

This position in the room definitely made Winter feel more comfortable and he remembered dancing like this before, but not the details like where or when. “You let me hear this song before.”

“Yeah. The kid’s been practicing his music all week every chance he could,” Jack agreed. “He was nervous about tonight.

Winter turned those thoughts over in his mind quietly for a moment before asking, “Did we dance before?”

Jack shook his head, “Me and you? No. Sometimes it felt like we were dancing when we were sparring though. You got the grace of ocean waves in your bones, Winter.”

Winter’s face relaxed the tiniest bit, hoping the compliment would soak into his bones and he’d remember it after the techs wiped him when the mission debrief was over. He looked down, “I’m sorry I’ll forget.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Jack said quietly. “Karma’ll catch up with us one day, though. I promise.”

With a tiny there-and-gone smile, Winter gently laced his metal fingers between Jack’s, very careful not to squeeze. “Okay,” he murmured.


End file.
